


pas cher acheté et pas cher cassé

by bytheinco_nstantmoon



Series: noirci par la naissance et par la mort [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A lot - Freeform, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Kissing, M/M, Marauders' Era, barty rambles, its sort of strange actually, long sentences, please trust me its pretty good, regulus is my baby please dont hurt him, sad???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 10:32:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17201858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bytheinco_nstantmoon/pseuds/bytheinco_nstantmoon
Summary: "Barty has never seen Regulus drunk."-the boys have a late night epiphany, and the world starts turning again.





	pas cher acheté et pas cher cassé

**Author's Note:**

> three sentences in i was at 441 words and i think yall should know that
> 
> shoutout to myself for being a Dumb Bitch

Barty had never seen Regulus drunk. Which was, admittedly, rather normal, as they were only fifteen and Barty himself had only started drinking quite recently- well, Regulus was sixteen already, since his birthday was so early, but it was their fifth year- but that was neither here nor there, and Regulus had seen Barty drunk many times, and as such, Barty felt that he deserved to have the favour returned.

There was a problem with this- or, an obstacle- or maybe just a certain circumstance, which was that Regulus was rather opposed to the idea of getting drunk, for no real reason that Barty could tell; or maybe perhaps the answer lied in Regulus’ habit of staying to the fringes of parties and watch Barty and Evan Rosier make fools of themselves and then make them miserable with teasing in the morning- this, Barty had come to decide, was part of the reason why he had never seen Regulus himself get drunk, because he knew they would do the same in retaliation, but that seemed monstrously unfair, because Regulus was very quiet and quiet people are always funny where they’re drunk- Avery (the younger one, the fourth year, not his jerk of an older brother) was quiet and stayed curled up reading books and shied away from interacting with people just as much as Regulus did, but Barty had seen him drunk before, and he was as wild and outspoken as any of them- Brown was the tall, silent type, but once he had a shot or two, he was singing Led Zeppelin louder than the rest of them (quite well, actually, for a man that couldn’t find his own feet)- Scarborough seemed most days as though he had never spoken a word in his life, but Barty had once seen him drink half a bottle of firewhiskey all himself and then stumble out in the snow without a coat and declare very loudly that the world was ending before stripping himself of his shirt and collapsing where he stood (it’d been a rather traumatizing experience for everyone involved, though Barty supposed for Scarborough’s sake that it was fortunate that he was the best Keeper in Scotland and in very good shape, because looking ugly would have made the pictures they took all the more embarrassing)- and all those memories were rather irrelevant and ones Barty didn’t often dwell on, but the point was that Regulus was probably very different when he was drunk, and as his best friend, Barty counted himself as entitled to see that side of him, despite Regulus rolling his eyes and denying that Barty ever would.

It took weeks and weeks and weeks possibly months but Barty honestly wasn’t sure because he never knew the date anyway and he mostly marked the passing of time by which assignments he had or hadn’t turned in, but anyway that wasn’t the point, the point was that after weeks and weeks and weeks and possibly months, Regulus agreed that he would let Barty get him drunk but only if Barty got drunk too and only if there were no pictures and only if Dolohov and Yaxley and Mulciber and Avery (Barty wasn’t sure which one, so he went ahead and assumed both) and Bellatrix were far away and could not feasibly, fathomably interact with him- he said all this in many fewer words, but Barty repeated it back to him just as it was thus written, all rambling and wordy and uncontrolled and with a tangent on time, and Regulus rolled his eyes but he was smiling, which was always a nice sight. Regulus didn’t smile very often, which Barty found to be a shame, because when Regulus smiled it seemed like the whole world got brighter, and it was a pity for the world to be stuck in the dark when there was such a easy fix- oddly enough, Narcissa had laughed and wished him luck when he told her this, and then refused to explain what she was offering her well wishes on. Perhaps she thought he might be able to fix the problem? Making Regulus smile was something that Barty prided himself on being able to do, and so he took it upon himself to do it as often as possible, by whatever means he could.

They ended up getting drunk together in their dorm on December 23rd, at approximately 4 o’clock in the morning, because all their dormmates were gone for the break but Regulus’ parents had gone to Spain instead of inviting their children home and Barty avoided going to his father’s if at all possible, and so they sat on Regulus’ bed and got drunk off a bottle of muggle whiskey that Barty had nicked from Scarborough.

“Can the stars speak?” Barty asked, mostly because he had been staring at his friend for the better part of five minutes and wondering if Regulus was really, truly human, because do humans glow? Do humans light up the whole world just by smiling? Can a human turn everything right just by letting their hair down? Barty had surmised that such abilities were beyond human, but were less supernatural and more heavenly, and if Regulus was from the heavens then he must know the stars. Regulus laughed at his question and looked at him with a grin.

“I don’t know, Barty. You tell me.”

“I’m no god,” Barty reminded his friend. Regulus’ smile slipped away, and he took another drink of the whiskey before setting it on the bedside table.

“Neither am I,” he replied, and Barty frowned. “We’re both only human.”

“Are you sure?” Regulus looked at him like he was mad, but his voice was steady and calm and lacked disbelief when he spoke.

“If I’m not human,” he began, tracing the pattern on the bedspread with his finger, “then I am not a god. I’m something far less, some kind of demon or- or something like that.” Barty has never heard Regulus stutter before.

“Do you like the stars?” He asked, scooting closer so that Regulus was forced to look in his eyes. He liked to look Regulus in the eyes- Regulus had very nice eyes, when they weren't cold or bitter or crying. Barty had seen an excess of all three, and he had to say that he was extremely partial to when Regulus’ eyes were smiling along with him. Right now, they seemed to be glowing, with the contentness that comes with being drunk and happy.

“Not really,” Regulus replied, giving him a smile. He doesn’t explain why. Barty doesn’t ask.

“Do you like Hogwarts?” Regulus shrugged but came forth with no verbal answer, which wasn’t entirely surprising, because Regulus has never seemed very happy in this cold castle, watching the sky change from rainy day to rainy day and never really learning anything at all except who they couldn’t trust.

“Is it better than home?”

“Yes.” The answer came immediately, without deliberation, and Barty frowned because he knew how it felt to hate home, and it wasn’t the kind of feeling that he wanted Regulus to have- Regulus should be happy, so that he could smile more often- because sometimes Barty worried that Regulus would never smile again, and it made his heart quiver and his headache with fear- and sometimes Regulus returned to school with bruises or scratches all up and down his arms and his chest and his back and Barty would stop breathing because Regulus being hurt was the most terrifying part of being alive, and sometimes his mind wandered too far and he realized that someday Regulus might not return to school at all, and he has to wake Regulus up and find a pretence to hold him for a moment and feel him breathing, because if he ever stopped the world would stop turning and that’s fact.

“Do you like me?” He asked; sometimes his mind told him that Regulus only stayed by his side because Barty was stupid as all hell and he got a kick out of it, or because the other boys in their dorm were jerks. Regulus surely couldn’t actually enjoy spending time with him, because Barty was worthless and useless and annoying and Regulus was nothing like him, nothing like that at all, perfect, really-

And then he realized that he was speaking out loud, and Regulus looked horrified.

“Barty,” his friend began, and then stopped. He reached out and laid a hand on Barty’s shoulder and then trailed it down and gripped Barty’s wrist. “Barty. Barty.” He let go of Barty’s wrist and intertwined their fingers and then used his other hand and pushed Barty so he was lying down and Regulus could lie next to him and curl his head against Barty’s chest.

“Do you?” Barty asked, and his voice was small and fragile and he sounded so young and he hated it, but he thought he might cry. Regulus inhaled sharply and rolled over so that he could lie on top of the taller boy and he rested his head next to Barty’s on the pillow and looked at him for a long, long moment, and Barty didn’t turn his head but he could feel his friend’s gaze.

“Barty,” Regulus began again, and he stopped again, and Barty can’t breathe, wouldn’t Regulus _please answer the goddamn question and if the answer is no it’s no and so be it then_ \- but then he saw Regulus smile and heard him whisper, “Barty, I love you.”

And Regulus has said such things before, shared such sentiments because they’re best friends and have been and of course they love each other but Barty realized all at once in this moment that- yes, of course, love is not just love, love is real love, a kind of love he had never even considered in relation to his small, beautiful friend, but would Regulus be so beautiful if there were any other kind of love involved?

“I love you too,” he said, and turned his head- Regulus’ cheeks were flushed red, and he couldn’t quite tell if it was a blush or if it was drunkenness. “My god, you don’t know half of it, Reggie, I adore you.”

Regulus laughed, and it was the most beautiful sound in the world- but every time he laughed it was the most beautiful sound- and soon, it was replaced by a new most beautiful sound, the next morning when Barty heard “good morning, dear,” whispered against his ear by lips that tasted like cheap muggle whiskey.

**Author's Note:**

> lemme know what you think!! these are my babies so don't yell please but be honest??


End file.
